


More

by Rose_the_Hat



Series: AceJen [2]
Category: CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angst, Asexual Character, Asexuality, Asexuality Spectrum, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Sexual Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-01 09:16:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5200400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_the_Hat/pseuds/Rose_the_Hat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Jensen has a sexual identity crisis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel/timestamp to [Enough](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1477075). You don’t necessarily need to read it to understand this one, but it might help with the background.
> 
> ***Special thanks to alexisjane for looking this over for me. And etoile_etiolee for the lovely banner. Y’all rock!***

“Jared, I told you, I don’t know when _The Winds of Winter_ is coming out,” Jensen sighs, standing up from where he had been squatting to sort through a box of intricate coloring books for adults his shop recently started selling. He can’t seem to keep them in stock these days. He and his boyfriend are in Jensen’s bookstore doing inventory, something they often do together.

Jared sets down a box of the newest Stephen King novel for Jensen to display. “I thought you being an industry insider you might have some inside information.”

Jensen gazes over at his boyfriend with fond exasperation. Most of his life Jensen had thought he wouldn’t be able to have this. That in such an oversexed society the possibility of having a sexual partner when Jensen himself is asexual could not be. But here they are ten months—nearly a _year_ —solid and still going strong.

“I am not an ‘industry insider’. I own a little independent bookshop. That’s all. I don’t work for a publishing house in New York or HBO. I know exactly what you know and that is George R. R. Martin takes _forever_ to write these books—epics. Be patient.” 

Jensen knows how hard that is going to be for Jared. After Jared breezed through the Ice and Fire series he delved deep into the lore and, heaven help Jensen, fan theories. Jensen loves Jared; he really, really does, but he does not want to sit through yet another lecture, no matter how entertaining they are, about how Roose Bolton is some weird immortal skinchanger, or that Ned Stark is in fact alive, or how Varys is a merman—that one Jensen can’t even _think_ about without rolling his eyes so hard he sees the back of his skull—, or Jared’s favorite theory that Mance Rayder….

“But I want to know if Mance Rayder wrote that letter to Jon,” Jared damn near whines. Jensen tends to believe that theory, along with R+L=J. Jared does not for some reason Jensen can’t fathom, and stonewalls every one of Jensen’s arguments supporting it.

Knowing the only way to divert Jared’s attention is a few feet away, he slices open the box of King’s new book, takes one out, and hands it to Jared. Jared’s already done the heavy lifting so he isn’t really needed anymore. “Here.”

Jared snatches the book like he’s Gollum and the book is the Precious. “You do love me.” Jared kisses him quickly, and plants himself in a squashy armchair to read. 

Jensen relishes the quiet, and continues the dull but necessary task of inventory.

Jensen wakes up, not for the first time in Jared’s bed, because he has to pee. They spend so much time at each other’s respective apartments, Jensen wonders if he should broach the subject of moving in together. It seems like the right thing to do, but more than that it _feels_ like the right step. He snuggles back against Jared. The other man’s body radiates warmth like an electric blanket, and Jensen soaks it in. Jared himself still seems to be dead to the world; his soft even breaths caress Jensen’s neck. Jensen has never been in love like this before. Jared is it for him. The realization is terrifying and breathtaking. He hopes Jared feels the same way.

He doesn’t want to get up and leave this cocoon of warmth and intimacy but his full bladder is making itself known. Moving with care, he slips from the bed, shuffles across the hall, and into the bathroom. After a couple of false starts (pissing with morning wood _sucks_ ) he relieves himself and treks back to bed. Jared is awake, sitting up, and blinking blearily looking like he has no idea how that happened. His face is pink with sleep and one side of his hair is flat against his skull and cheek, the other is tangled and sticking up. Jensen glances at the clock. It’s a little after five. They can sleep for a couple more hours.

He climbs back in bed, relishing the warmth immediately. Jared’s arms envelope him and they lay down. Jared mutters something, arms coming around Jensen and holding his tight. He nuzzles Jensen’s neck, stubble scratching against the skin of his neck.

When Jensen wakes up again it is to the feel of Jared’s erection pressing against his lower back. Jared’s moaning softly, hips thrusting against Jensen. Jensen wonders what he’s dreaming about, if he’s dreaming about him. But it’s totally cool if Jared dreams about someone else too, Jensen thinks but can’t really make himself believe it. Still, you can’t fault a guy for what his brain cooks up while he’s unconscious. Jared’s breathing quickens and his hips stutter and Jensen hears Jared whimper his name. Jensen grins. He turns over, kisses Jared awake.

“Hey,” Jared says voice rough with sleep.

“Must’a been some dream you were having.”

Jared’s already pink cheeks darken and he drops his eyes guiltily. Jensen hates that, hates that Jared feels guilty for something that is completely natural to him and he hates that he makes Jared feel guilty. 

“Hey,” he whispers, catching Jared’s gaze. “It’s okay.” He smiles and rests a palm in the middle of Jared’s chest. “Want some help with that?” His fingers play with the patch of hair on Jared’s chest.

Jared’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Only if you’re okay with it.”

“I love that you ask, but when I offer, you don’t really need to.” He buries his head in the crook of Jared’s neck and skims his hand down Jared’s torso, fingers falling into the dips and valleys of taut muscle until he reaches Jared’s cock and curls them around it. He jerks Jared slow and easy, drinking in his moans and gasps of pleasure, feeling his skin get hotter, breathing in Jared’s distinctive masculine scent. Jared comes with a rasping broken-off cry of Jensen’s name.

The soul-deep satisfaction that he usually feels after pleasuring Jared spreads through Jensen, but for the first time it doesn’t feel like enough.

“Seventy-five, eighty, eighty-five, ninety,” Jensen counts the day’s receipts, the shop quiet for the first time all day. A soft couple of raps on the glass interrupt Jensen’s counting.

“Closed!” Jensen calls without looking up from his task. The knock comes again. Jensen grumbles and turns to see Jared standing outside, shoulders hunched and head down. He hops off his stool and hurries to the door. He throws the lock and opens the door. The chimes tinkle.

“Hey,” Jensen grins, but his smile falls when he sees how tired and careworn Jared looks. “What’s wrong?”

Jared must have come straight from the clinic because he was still dressed in mint green scrubs with hounds and bones on them. He trudges into the shop, runs a hand through his hair. “We had to put down a couple of pets today because the owners couldn’t afford the treatment.”

“I’m sorry.” Ending an animal’s suffering Jared can handle, but incidents like this it gets to him and Jensen is glad to be the one Jared leans on.

“I understand and accept that euthanasia is part of the job, for some animals it’s a kindness, the ultimate kindness, but times like this?” Jared sighs. “And I wanna be mad at the owners because if you can’t afford proper health care for animal then you shouldn’t have one, but I can’t. I can’t be mad at someone for wanting a friend, someone to come home to, for their kids to play with and grow up with. So who am I supposed to be mad at here, Jen?” He gazes at Jensen like he’s desperate for an answer to make it alright. “The doctors because they don’t work for free? Myself because I can’t adopt and save them all?” His breathing hitches and his eyes shimmer with tears. 

“No one, Jare. It’s a shitty situation because there is no one to be mad at. It’s just life: cruel and unpredictable.” Jensen draws him into a tight hug. Jared clings to him and they stand like that for a good couple of minutes, giving and taking comfort.

Jensen gently pulls from the embrace. He gazes up at Jared and all he wants to do is wipe the gloomy expression from Jared’s face. He cards his fingers through Jared’s soft, thick hair. “I got an idea. How about I finish balancing the books, we go get a good bottle of wine, and head over to your place. You can cuddle with Butters and Twilight while I make a big batch of bacon mac ’n cheese. We’ll eat it and get drunk. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.” Jared bends and kisses him. “Thanks.”

 

Two hours later, Jared is tipsy on the wine and poking at his protruding belly, while his cats, Butters and Twilight Sparkle, (and Jensen will _never_ stop laughing about the name choices) play with the wine cork, batting it with their paws and gamboling after and over each other in pursuit of it. Jensen is more than a little crocked himself having drank more than he ate. _Caddyshack_ is on the television, and Jensen finds it more hilarious than usual.

“Hey, Jen?”

Jensen turns his attention from the giggling gopher on the TV to Jared. The other man gazes at him soft and fond, a goofy lopsided smile making his right dimple flash, and Jensen doesn’t think he has ever loved Jared more than he does right now. “Yeah?”

“You are an _awesome_ boyfriend.” He lays his head on Jensen’s shoulder and winds an arm around his waist. A few minutes later, he’s snoring into Jensen’s ear and drooling on him. 

Jensen watches the rest of the movie, fingers running through Jared’s hair while the other man sleeps. Jared is still conked out after the end credits roll, and Jensen doesn’t have the heart to wake him. He lays Jared down, covers him with the House Stark blanket, and goes to grab a shower.

Jensen spends so much time at Jared’s—and Jared at Jensen’s—that he has an entire dresser drawer full of underwear and socks, half of Jared’s closet contains Jensen’s clothes, and the bathroom counter is sprinkled with his toiletry items. He grabs a clean pair of boxers and his Batman sleep pants and heads into the bathroom.

He strips out of his clothes, turns the water on, adjusts it to a comfortable temperature before stepping under the spray. The hot water pounding against his back and shoulders and the steam surrounding him soothes and relaxes him. He washes his hair and soaps up. He exhales, and rolls his shoulders as his hand drifts to his cock. He takes himself in a loose, teasing grip, strokes along the length, feeling it fill and fatten. He sighs and slips into the realm of fantasy. 

He imagines a faceless hunk fucking him on a pool table, can see himself arching and moaning, imagine a big thick dick splitting him open, imagines a hard demanding mouth kissing him, imagines big hands roaming over his body. His other hand reaches down to roll his balls. He widens his stance and his finger slips further back to rub along his perineum. He moans, imagines his faceless hunk flipping him over and tonguing his ass.

The fantasy shifts and his faceless lover isn’t faceless at all, its Jared above him, moving inside him in slow deep strokes. They aren’t on a pool table either, but rather on a bear skin rug in front of a roaring fire. Desire and lust flare inside him bright and hotter than the sun. 

“Yes,” he gasps stroking harder, faster, eyes shut tight, brow furrowed. “Jared.”

Pornographic scenes flit through his mind. Jared fucking him hard and deep. Jared’s hands on him, squeezing his hips and leaving bruises. Jared growling filth into his ear, calling him a slut and a whore, telling him what a good boy he is and how well he’s taking Jared’s fat cock. Jared’s sweat and come mingling with his. 

Jerking off isn’t new to Jensen. It’s a nightly ritual for him, stress relief and a way to relax him before bed so he can get a good night’s sleep, but fantasizing about Jared is new. Before his fantasies have been abstract; his favorite celebrity, the cute guy who made his coffee at Starbucks that morning, a stacked blonde who bought half a dozen Jim Butcher novels. Fantasizing about Jared is different; it makes him feel guilty for reasons he can’t define. 

He forces his eyes open, and stills his hand on his cock. He tries to refocus. He rests a forearm against the tile wall of the shower and presses his forehead against it. He tries to think about Tahmoh, a handsome customer whose purchases consist of gay romance novels and how-to home improvement guides. Tries to imagine kissing him, imagine his hands roaming Jensen’s body, or pressing him down into the mattress, but inevitably his face shifts, cheekbones sharpen and grey eyes morph to hazel blue until its Jared staring back at him.

In a way, it’s fitting that he can’t think about anyone else but Jared because he is so deeply in love with the man. He lets go, gives in, and thinks about Jared. He’s no longer in the shower but a summer rainstorm pelting down on them. Laughing, Jared lifts him up, and holds him against the trunk of a mighty oak. Jensen wraps his legs around Jared’s waist as he fucks into him with short jabs of his hips. Jensen’s arms wind around Jared’s neck, and his hands knot in Jared’s hair. He can feel a cool breeze and the sun as it peeks through the clouds, can taste rain on Jared’s lips when they kiss, can feel the bark of the tree abrading his back. He’s lost in his fantasy in a way he has never been before.

“Jared. God, Jared. Yes. Yes.” 

His hand moves over his cock in a blur. God, he is so turned on. So hard it hurts. He’s aware he’s moaning louder than he should, and hopes the noise of the shower muffles it. His balls tighten and he comes with a grunt; strings of sticky seed hit the watery-green tile and swirl down the drain. 

Jensen shudders, catching his breath as the water begins to cool. Far from feeling relaxed and ready for bed, as usual, he feels strung tight and confused. He just got off harder than he has in a long while, and it wasn’t to someone abstract or faceless, but his boyfriend who is out in the other room and would be more than happy to make Jensen’s fantasy a reality should he ask. But he doesn’t _want_ to have sex with Jared in reality.

Does he?

The noise level in the shop is a little louder today than most days. The Manga club is having its bi-monthly meeting, and the members can get a little enthusiastic, but it’s nice. Jensen enjoys it, enjoys his shop full of noise and life. It fills him with a fierce pride that his little shop is still thriving despite his mother’s doom-and-gloom predictions. The chimes above the door tinkle announcing a new customer, except it isn’t a new customer at all but a regular he hasn’t seen in awhile.

“Well, well, well,” Jensen says smiling in welcome “Back visiting your old stomping grounds, eh, Colin?”

Colin Ford, a long-time customer of Jensen’s who went away to Stanford last fall, grins a sunny grin. He’s grown at least another inch or two in height and his hair has those California sun-kissed highlights. It’s good to see the boy, young man Jensen amends, again, having watched him grow up. “Nah, I’m just too lame to go to Cabo for Spring Break like my friends.” 

Jensen chuckles, extending a hand. “How you doin’, kid?”

Colin takes it and gives it a firm shake. “I’m good, Jensen. Missed this place most of all. After dropping my stuff off at the house I knew I had to stop by. How’s it going?”

“Great. Business is strong and steady. I imagine Stanford has an extensive reading list, you looking for anything in particular?”

Colin shoves his hands into his pockets and shrugs, gazing around the shop, eyes misty with nostalgia. “Nah, but I never could come in here and leave empty handed.”

Jensen nods. “Well, have at it. Good to see you.”

Colin wanders over to the Fantasy section and Jensen nods, pleased that though he is a man now his reading habits are still mostly the same, just a little more refined. He goes back to his spreadsheet, attention divided between tracking down special orders and ringing people up. It’s good that the shop is busy, keeps him from angsting about The Incident in the shower a week ago. Jensen had written it off to being a little drunk, his inhibitions lowered, and was prepared to forget about, but there was another instance a couple of mornings ago. 

He was dreaming about Jared, a ridiculous scenario where Jared was fucking him as they floated on the ocean. He woke up white-hot desire burning through him, and cock aching. He shoved a hand inside his boxers and jerked himself off, coming after a couple of hard strokes. He had lain, gazing up at the ceiling, reeling at the realization that he was experiencing real, intense sexual desire. No one he has ever been in a relationship with has stuck around long enough for this to become an issue and Jensen never thought it would. So assured that sex was not something he needed or wanted, but he wants Jared, wants him so much he aches, and if he wants to have sex is he even Asexual anymore? The one constant basic thing he’s supposed to know about himself has been ripped out from under him. He doesn’t know who he can talk to about it or how to explain it, so he does what he can to keep his mind and time occupied in between bouts of brooding.

The Manga meeting breaks up at two, and each member leaves with new copies of Death Note and Vampire Knight that they will mostly likely discuss at their next meetings. Colin has planted himself in a chair with a couple of books on the end table beside him and leafing through another. 

“Mister Jensen?” A tiny voice inquires. 

Jensen peers over his counter to see a timid little girl, five at most, tugging on her denim skirt. “Help you, sweetheart?”

Jensen’s eyes scan the shop; the girl’s mother watching a couple of feet away. The child looks over her shoulder to her mother who smiles encouragingly. The girl turns back to Jensen, puffs out her chest seeming to gather her courage. “My mommy said I should ask’d you where to find the Princess books.”

“Princess books! I love Princess books,” Jensen enthuses. She giggles and sways from side to side. “I have all kinds. Wanna see?”

“Yes!” She bounces on the balls of her feet. Jensen steps from behind the counter and offers her his hand. She takes it and he leads her to the left of the shop towards the children’s corner. After ascertaining the princess books she is looking for are Sofia the First, he points them out and leaves her in the care of her mother.

He finds his spot behind the counter occupied when he returns. He leans against the counter and cocks a brow. “Employees only behind the counter,” he says, voice stern.

“Does it help at all if the owner is my boyfriend?” Jared asks wagging his eyebrows and grinning.

“Nope,” Jensen says, a smile tugging up the corners of his mouth. He can’t be in Jared’s presence and not smile, especially when he’s dressed in pink scrubs with kittens and balls of yarn on them. He steps behind the counter and wraps an arm around Jared’s waist. He tilts his head up and Jared bends to give him a brief hello kiss. “What brings you by?”

Jared shrugs. “Heading back to the clinic after lunch. Thought I’d swing by and see my friendly neighborhood bookseller. You wanna hang out tonight?”

Jensen does but hanging out usually turns into a sleepover and Jensen doesn’t trust himself to be alone with Jared because he’s still struggling to understand the feelings Jared has stirred inside him, but the desire to spend time with Jared overrides his fear. “Sure…as long as we have pizza and you _do not_ mention any of your crackpot _Ice and Fire_ theories.”

Jared looks adorably crestfallen. “Fine,” he mutters, scuffing the toe of his shoe across the floor.

“I’ll let you pick what we watch,” Jensen offers.

Jared perks up. “Deal.” He checks his watch. “I gotta hustle. See ya later.” He gives Jensen a quick goodbye kiss and he’s out the door.

 

Jensen’s brow furrows at the scene unfolding on the screen. Jared, of course, had picked an old suspense movie; this one about an angelic little girl who is in fact a stone-cold sociopathic killer. They are at Jensen’s apartment because he has the better television, cuddled together on the couch; a few empty beer bottles and the remnants of their pizza on the coffee table. 

“Is she for real?” He asks as the little girl shrieks about wanting her shoes back.

“Well, those shoes are evidence she killed that boy at the picnic,” Jared’s voice is a warm rumble.

Jensen tears his eyes away from the screen to look at Jared’s profile, his sharp jaw and the up-tilt of his nose. He’s so gorgeous it’s kind of unreal. The fact that he loves and accepts Jensen makes him more appealing. 

Blood-chilling screams erupt from the TV, and Jensen’s attention snaps back to the screen where smoke billows from the apartment building’s basement. 

“Holy shit,” Jensen says. “She’s burning him alive because of the shoes.”

Jared nods, face grim. “Shoes he didn’t even have.” 

Jensen watches the rest of the movie with a kind of horrified fascination, even if the acting is a bit over the top and campy at times. When Jensen comments on it, Jared tells him it’s a hold-over from the stage play and doesn’t translate well to the film version. Jensen is in awe of Jared’s vast wealth of knowledge when it comes to these old movies. Tidbits, production headaches, casting changes, Jared knows it all.

“So, all and all what did you think?” Jared asks once the movie is over. 

“Pretty good. I love how she got struck by lightning at the end.”

Jared scoffs. “Yeah, well, the book didn’t end like that.” He stands, yawns and stretches. 

“She gets away with it?”

Jared nods. “Yup, but they had to change it for the movie because the Hayes Code was still in effect. Bad guys had to get their comeuppance.” 

“Well shit,” Jensen says pushing to his feet. He scrubs his hands through his hair, gazes at Jared. “Wanna stay over?”

Before Jared can answer he yawns again. Jensen takes that as assent, throws an arm around his shoulders, and leads him into the bedroom. They get ready for bed, in comfortable silence; elbows bumping as they brush their teeth, grinning at each other through toothpaste foam each time they clash. Jensen swears Jared does it on purpose. 

Jensen strips down to his boxers and slides beneath the covers. Jared joins him a moment later. They grunt and shift, rolling towards each other onto their sides and pressing close. Jared’s arms come around Jensen and hold him close. Jensen tucks his head under Jared’s chin, their customary cuddling position.

“Hey, Jense?” Jared’s tone is musing.

“Hmm?” 

“Think I could start a club at your shop?”

Jensen shrugs. His shop hosts a few book clubs, each one meeting on a different day or the week or month in the area Jensen has set up for that reason. It’s good for business; people meet and discuss books, and when they decide on what book to read next, they buy from Jensen’s shop. “What kind of club?”

“Since you hate listening to my Ice and Fire theories, I want to start a club where other crackpots like me can meet and exchange ideas.”

Jensen lifts his head to find Jared’s eyes, wondering if maybe his gentle teasing has gone too far and hurt Jared’s feelings. Jared’s eyes glitter with amusement in the low light and Jensen is reassured. “You’re such a dork. But if you want to host a club to discuss crackpot theories, fine. I’m kind of surprised there isn’t one already.”

Jared’s arms tighten around him. “You do love me.” He leans in and presses a chaste kiss to Jensen’s lips.

“A little bit,” Jensen replies and leans in for another. 

One kiss turns into more and Jared takes it slow, a soft press of lips before his tongue snakes out in a cautious lick over Jensen’s lips. Jensen sighs and opens his mouth for Jared’s tongue and stroking it with his own. Jensen’s heart speeds up and heat washes over him. He threads his fingers through Jared’s hair moving closer to him. One of Jared’s big hands cradles the back of Jensen’s head, thumb tracing the cut of Jensen’s jawline. 

Jared breaks their kiss to nuzzle the crook of Jensen’s neck. “You always smell like books. It’s sexy.”

Jensen laughs and Jared kisses the sound from his mouth. 

They exchange lazy tongue-kisses for long blissful minutes, losing themselves in the effortless slide of tongues and nips of teeth. Jared’s hands stroke along Jensen’s back, across his shoulders, his face. Jensen relaxes and relishes the sensuality, the intimacy of sharing taste and breath with the man he loves.

Their kisses deepen. Jared pushes Jensen on to his back; it feels so right and natural Jensen goes willingly. It’s like something out of one of his fantasies, Jared pressing him into the mattress. Jared’s hard cock presses against his thigh, separated by the thin cotton of his underwear. Jensen’s fingers find Jared’s nipples and tease them to hard peaks. Jared moans softly and rocks his hips against the meat of Jensen’s thigh. Jensen lifts one of his own legs, tangling it with Jared’s, urging him on.

Jensen takes Jared’s face between his palms and presses their mouths together so hard their teeth clack. He sucks Jared’s tongue, bites his bottom lip. Jared’s riding his thigh hard now, little moans of pleasure breathed into Jensen’s mouth. His own cock his hard and throbbing against Jared’s hip and he gives a little experimental push of his hips. The friction is delicious and he goes with it, rubbing and grinding against Jared as they kiss.

Jared’s hand cups the bulge of Jensen’s erection and squeezes. The touch is akin to being struck by lightning. He moans and presses into it. He clutches Jared, fingers digging into the hard muscle of his shoulder. 

The desire burgeoning inside him erupts and the intensity scares more than excites him. He doesn’t know how to _be_ sexual. Giving has always been enough for Jensen; he’s never wanted more. Knowing he gave Jared pleasure and release satisfied him in a way he struggled to explain to Jared; the pleasure Jensen received _wasn’t_ sexual in nature, and Jared, as a sexual person, couldn’t understand.

A few years ago, when Jensen had been in a relationship with a cool, laid-back guy named Steve, he thought maybe someday he could see himself having sex with Steve, but the relationship ended before Jensen could progress to anything beyond “meh, maybe”. There is no doubt Jensen is beyond _maybe_ with Jared.

Suppose he and Jared do have sex. What then? Can Jared go back to the way they had been? Would he long for something more and gradually grow unhappy with Jensen until he leaves and Jensen looses the best thing to ever happen to him. The idea of being without Jared is terrifying and kills all desire within him.

At some point Jared’s hand has slipped _into_ Jensen’s boxers, and was jerking Jensen with firm skilled strokes, a little squeeze and twist of the wrist under the head. It is perfect but Jensen’s cock wilts despite the expert stimulation. 

“Jared. Jared.” His heart pounds and he’s short of breath, close to panicking. This can’t go any further. He can’t let it. "Jared, stop, please." His throat squeezes and the words came out as a squeak. “Stop!” He slams his palms into Jared’s chest and pushes him away. 

Jared’s hand leaves Jensen’s cock as if scalded. His face, still flushed with arousal, morphs into an expression of remorse so profound it makes Jensen’s heart ache. His hands always wander when they make out, but never go below Jensen’s waist without Jensen’s express consent. “Jensen, I…I’m so sorry. I got carried away. I…”

His eyes shimmer over-bright in the low light and Jensen can’t take the pain he sees in them. This isn’t Jared’s issue, it’s all on Jensen. He bolts from the bed dashes into the bathroom, slams and locks the door behind him. He sits on the closed toilet lid and tries to collect himself.

There was a soft knock on the door. "Jen? Are you okay? I'm sorry. I...I know that you don’t want..." He could hear the waver in Jared's voice. "I'm sorry. I'll leave you alone." 

Jensen’s standing and reaching to thumb the lock before he stops himself. How can he explain what he’s feeling to Jared when even he’s not sure. He presses his forehead to the door and squeezes his eyes shut. This was exactly why he had avoided spending the night with Jared. He’s fucked things up and knows Jared is going to blame himself.

Jensen’s alarm rips him from sleep. It takes him half a dozen times to silence the fucker. He has no inclination to get out of bed, but no inclination to stay in it either, not without Jared to cuddle with. The quality of his sleep has gone to shit since his misunderstanding with Jared a couple of nights ago. The only contact he’s has with him was via a heartbreaking text the morning after.

_Im sorry I hope u can 4give me_

Upon reading that Jensen had tried to call, but Jared wasn’t answering. In a way he’s relieved because Jensen has no idea what to say. He can’t find a way to bring order to his chaotic thoughts. 

Jensen sits up and stares at the carpet for several long moments, willing himself to start his routine. He needs advice, someone who has been where he is, who can give some insight, help him make sense of his contradictory feelings. He remembers the Ace support group. They had been a great comfort when he was struggling to understand his lack of desire and attraction. When he first found out there were others like him it was such _relief_. He wasn’t some freak for not having sex on the brain 24/7. Maybe they can help him again. Feeling slightly more optimistic he heads in to take a shower and start his day. 

Over the last several months Jared has become such a fixture in Jensen’s life. He’s not sure how to function without him. Now there are no good morning kisses (morning breath be damned, although Jared usually tastes minty fresh) and cuddles. Those are a much better way to wake up that a damn alarm blaring. The bed is cold and lonely without Jared to keep him warm. He keeps coming across Jared’s things in his apartment as well: Jared’s toothbrush, Jared’s shampoo, Jared’s goofy “I Wish I Was A Unicorn So I Could Stab Idiots With My Horn” coffee mug, and Jared’s shirts. It’s almost a relief to leave the apartment, but it’s no better at the shop. Everywhere he looks reminds him of Jared. Jared helping him with inventory, the display of King books, the mystery section, or the _Song of Ice and Fire_ series. It’s pathetic. He’s pathetic. He knows he should reach out to Jared, try harder to contact him, but doesn’t feel able to until he sorts through his own emotional and sexual issues. If he doesn’t he doesn’t think their relationship will be able to move forward.

Showered and dressed, Jensen puts on a pot of coffee. While waiting for it to brew, he boots up his computer. He opens a browser and heads to the Ace support group. The site layout has changed but he finds his way to the forum easily enough. He starts a new thread, explaining his situation and his confusion as best he can. By the time he’s done with his post so is his coffee. He fills his thermos and heads out the door.

Mornings are never very busy at the shop. For the most part, Jensen uses the quiet to do his accounts, order new inventory, and track down special orders. Jensen doesn’t deal in old or rare books, but he has cultivated a loyal clientele, and if one of them asks for something special, he is more than willing to try. If he can’t find the book or feels out of his depth, he’ll refer them to someone better suited to the task. For the most part people want first editions or specific copies of editions they remember from their youth. Jensen likes hunting them down, truth be told; like a scavenger or treasure hunt. The prize at the end is the smile on a satisfied customer’s face.

His first customer is Mrs. Carmody. She gives him a toothless smile and shuffles along with her walker to the true crime section. She’s older than God but her mind is still sharp as ever, Jensen hopes he should be so lucky. As Mrs. Carmody is leaving, having bought books about Jack the Ripper, The Black Dahalia, and JonBenét Ramsey cases, an African American couple comes in.

“Rick, Sterling,” Jensen greets, feeling a little pang as he observes their joined hands and the way they lean into one another.

“Jensen,” Rick Worthy-Brown’s smooth, deep voice is tinged with eagerness. “Do you have these books on the adoption process?” He hands Jensen a list of books printed from the internet.

Jensen exhales in a sharp surprised burst as he takes the paper. While it’s too early to even think about anything in that direction with he and Jared, it does make him think of Jared. _Everything_ makes him think of Jared. Christ, it’s only been a couple of days and he misses him so damn much. “Adoption?”

Sterling and Rick nod. “We’ve talked about it for awhile now and with our marriage legally recognized in _all_ states, it seems like the right time,” Sterling says. “Adoption will probably be an uphill battle, but we’ve been fighting all our lives. What’s one more?”

“Anything worth having is worth fighting for,” Rick says.

“Well, best of luck to ya. You should find these titles either in the legal or self-help sections. You need anything specific let me know and I’ll get it for you.”

“Thanks.”

“Will do.”

Business picks up mid-morning and into the afternoon. A steady stream of bookworms buying Kootnz, Grisham, Twain, Steel, and Salinger pass through. Jensen chats with them all, making sure to give them his attention, and the personal touch that seems so important in an impersonal world. Rick and Sterling end up buying four books, three on the adoption process, two of them geared toward LGBT couples, and a copy of _And Tango Makes Three_. 

It’s nearing lunch when Jensen spots Jared outside of his shop. His heart flips and his stomach follows. Jared looks as forlorn and miserable as Jensen feels. His face is dark with stubble and he has circles under his eyes. He’s wearing plain blue scrubs instead of his usual bright colors and cute patterns. Jensen’s throat closes up. He takes an abortive step forward, intending to go to Jared and try to talk to him, but words fly from him like dandelion fluff in a breeze, and he sort of staggers in place. Jared looks devastated by the action. He bites his lip, nods stiffly, and rushes past the shop with his head down and shoulders hunched. Jensen isn’t sure of a whole hell of a lot right now; but one thing is does know is that he needs to figure his shit out because it’s not only himself that’s hurting. He’s hurting Jared, too.

_Goddamn it_. Jensen turns back to his computer, minimizes his spreadsheets, and opens a new tab on his browser. He immediately heads to the Ace forum to check the replies to his post and wishes he hadn’t. Some commenters fight amongst themselves and threads devolved into name calling. Some are people are downright rude.

_AceofSpades: If you want sex you are NOT ace!!! PERIOD!!_

_KittyPuff: Sex is disgusting. When I look at people doing it, I have absolutely no idea how they find pleasure in it._

_Asexy: If you do it, feel some kind of pleasure, or you even initiate the act, please get out of this site, ur not assexual._

Others are condescending.

_Techrat: there is more than one type of asexuality. Oh and fyi, Sex is gross and just an exchange of body fluids with no actual reason behind it(except for reproduction)._

Some question whether Jensen should even _be_ involved with Jared because he identifies as asexual. Jensen wonders if they might be right; if this incident is a harbinger of future difficulties. 

_EdgarAllanNope: I honestly think it is a VERY bad idea for an Ace (if that even is what you are OP) to be in a relationship with a sexual person. I can understand an Ace person wanting to marry for intimacy, in which case you should probably marry another asexual. Sexual people place such a high priority on sex. If you marry someone who is sexual and you don't have any interest in sex you are pretty much depriving your loved one of something they need out of the relationship. That ain’t healthy._

Others only add to his confusion.

_PrettyBlueButterflies Try to explain how you feel if you want to, people might be able to help you find the right label that describes it the best._

_windanser: If you won't have sex because your uncomfortable then it's not because your asexual, it's because your uncomfortable, insecure, or afraid. Asexual people don't have sexual feelings for people AT ALL. There is a HUGE difference between the two._

_Eloise: Getting sexually aroused doenst mean sexual desire is there, too._

_Daisylove: DESIRE and ATTRACTION aren’t the same! Also, sexual feelings =/= sexual desires =/= sexual urges =/= sexual attraction._

After reading that Jensen doesn’t know up from down anymore. If he had thought he would find clarity and compassion from the internet he had been a damn fool. Not only is he more confused than ever, there is an undercurrent of shame pulsing through him: shame for feeling desire for Jared and wanting to have sex with him, ashamed of the times he jerks Jared off or lets Jared rut against him until his boyfriend comes. Maybe he isn’t Ace at all. Or if he is maybe he’s…a _bad_ one and shouldn’t even use that label which leaves him with _no_ sexual identity. He closes his computer and puts his head in his hands, near tears from confusion and frustration.

“Hey, Jensen.”

Jensen lifts his head to see that Colin has come in and laid some purchases on the counter, a couple of Moleskin notebooks and…a copy of _A Game of Thrones_. Jensen can’t breathe for a moment. That book brought Jared into the store, into Jensen’s life, and gave him something he thought he’d never be able to have. He hears Jared’s laugh, hears him going off on tangents about his batshit theories. He remembers Jared asking permission to start a club meeting in the store. It helps _nothing_ that Colin bears a resemblance to Jared himself with his dewy eyes and bright smile. Suddenly everything is too much. Jensen wants to bolt but there is no one to run the store for him.

“Jensen?” The young man’s brow furrows and he fixes Jensen with a concerned expression. “You all right?”

Jensen struggles to hold himself together. “Fine.” The word wrenches itself free from Jensen’s constricted throat. “It’s been a long day.”

“Know anything about this book?” Colin asks as Jensen rings him up. It’s an innocent inquiry but Jensen is strung tight right now; he does not need a mini-Jared with a goddamn _Game of Thrones_ book asking him anything. 

“Everybody dies.” It comes out harsher than he intended but he doesn’t have it in him to make excuses. He just needs this day to be over.

It’s nearing midnight and Jensen has been tossing and turning for the last hour. The day started wrong and just got worse. He was out of coffee and he spent the day in the shop snapping at customers and making half-hearted apologies afterward. When he got home it was to find that an upstairs neighbor’s pipe had burst and leaked water all over his entertainment center. Everything was ruined. His renters insurance will cover it, but its rigmarole he doesn’t want to deal with right now on top of everything. Jensen wanted to crawl into a hole and pull it in after him. He settled for crawling into bed.

He stares at the bright blue numbers on his clock. Watching as 11:56 became 11:57 calculating how many hours of sleep he could get if he falls deeply asleep right that moment. He recalculates when 11:57 became 11:58. And again when 11:58 became 11:59. This is not helping. He turns over, away from the numbers and shut his eyes tight. Willing himself to relax and sleep, but it was so hard without Jared and even worse with all this uncertainty surrounding their relationship. Jensen refuses to believe they were broken up. Neither he nor Jared has said those two final words: it’s over. This was just a rough patch, and Jensen was fully aware it was on him. He has read through more responses to his post on the Ace forum but it was just more of the same.

His eyes snap open when his phone begins to play _The Rains of Castamere_ , he had changed to that to better fit his mood as of late. He turns back over and reaches for his phone. He wants it to be Jared, but it isn’t. It was his best friend Jason. Jason. Shit. Jensen feels a little foolish that he hadn’t thought to reach out to his friend and ask him for some advice to begin with. Jensen supposes he’s just been too lost in his own pain and confusion that he was shutting everyone out, but he is glad to see his friend’s name and pic on the screen. He swipes to answer. 

“Jackles!” Jason’s customary nickname makes Jensen smile. “Guess where I am, dude.”

Jensen can hear chatter and faint music in the background. There’s really only one place the musician would be. “A gig in a bar?”

“Not just any, bar. I’m downtown at the Double Wide.”

“You’re in Dallas? Shit, man, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Jensen sits up and swings his legs off the side of the bed. 

“Because we didn’t know until a little while ago. The real band they wanted cancelled so they called us to fill in.”

“Hooray for being second choice,” Jensen says, smiling his first genuine smile in nearly a week.

“We take what we can get. Anyway, the rest of my guys have places to crash, I however, have no accommodations.”

“You better get your ass over here, son,” Jensen drawls, his accent thickening. It had been far too long since he had seen his old friend, not since he blew into town for the Christmas holidays to see his folks. Jensen can use a fresh perspective from someone he trusts, someone who knows his particular situation.

“Well, hell, you twisted my arm. See ya in a few!”

“And bring some Shiners!” Jensen shouts and ends the call.

Jason arrives twenty minutes later with a couple of sixers of Shiner Bock and an outrageous full beard.

“Damn, dude. You went native or something?” Jensen says as he gets a gander of his friend. He takes the offered beers and sets them down. Jason gives him a tight, back-slapping hug before entering the apartment. 

He strokes his beard. “I think it gives me a stately air.” He saunters over to the couch and falls back onto it with a sigh. 

Jensen pulls two bottles from the case and hands one over as he sits next to Jason. “I think it gives you a redneck air.”

Jason pops the caps on their brews with the bottle opener on his keychain. 

“Good to see you again,” Jensen says. They clink the necks of their bottles together and each take a long drink. 

Jensen smiles at his friend but Jason doesn’t return it. He scrutinizes Jensen for several long moments and Jensen shifts under the weight of the stare. 

“You look like shit,” Jason says baldly. “What the hell is wrong?”

Jensen doesn’t have the wherewithal to fight. “I fucked up or I am fucked up. I don’t know.” He exhales and scrubs a hand across his lower face. Stubble scrapes across his palm. Had he shaved that day?

Jason sets his beer on the coffee table. “Better start from the beginning.”

Jensen takes a long pull off his beer before launching into the story, trying his best to put the jumble of confusing thoughts into words. It feels good to finally be talking about it. Jason sips his beer and listens, doesn’t interrupt, and gives Jensen time to find words when he stumbles. When he finishes he feels a bit exposed. He is in his thirties; a man his age does not have an identity crisis. 

"So what if you want sex?” Jason says in his typical blasé fashion. “You love Jared and want to be close to him."

Jensen slumps. He had been sure Jason would be able to help him, always has before. “I knew you wouldn’t understand. Maybe I’m not explaining it right.” He pauses, gathering his thoughts and trying to formulate his problem in a way a sexual person can understand. “Okay, think of it like this. You've been attracted to women all your life, only had sex with them. How would you feel if you suddenly were attracted to a man?"

Jason crosses his ankle over his knee, sinks deeper into the sofa and takes a sip of his beer. “Initial freak out probably, but I'd go with the flow. That's what you should do. Go with the flow."

“I’m Asexual! I’m not supposed to want sex! But I do and if I’m not Ace then I don’t know what I am!”

Jason looks indifferent to Jensen’s turmoil. “Who the hell said you can’t want sex because you’re Ace? Sexuality is not black and white, dude. No one but _you_ can define your sexuality. And no one but _you_ can say how you express it. You wanna have sex with Jared sometimes? Rock on with your sex-havin'-self. You don’t? That's groovy too. But, dude, I’ve known you since we were, what, twelve I don’t think that’s the real reason you’re freaking out.” 

Jensen feels something like clarity wash over him. Leave it to Jason to cut through the bullshit, and get down to brass tacks. He never identified as strictly Asexual. He had always maintained he fell into the Gray Ace category. The whole reason behind his freak out _wasn’t_ because he had wanted to have sex. It was because he didn’t want to lose Jared because of it. All this time he’s been focusing on the wrong thing. Jensen licks his lips, and gathers his thoughts. 

“The night I freaked out,” Jensen begins slowly. “It wasn’t because I wanted sex, I mean that was part of it, but the _big part_ was that I don’t wanna, like,...give Jared false hope that a switch has been flipped in me and I'm suddenly gonna want sex like he does. It’s not like that for me.”

“What? You think Jared doesn’t know that? You’ve been up front with him from the beginning. If he wanted to walk, he could have before now. You have to trust him, trust that your relationship is strong enough to withstand your different sexual needs. It has so far, right? And when was the last time that happened?”

Jensen bows his head as everything becomes clear. Jared has always been happy with the little intimacies they have. He doesn’t ask for more. He doesn’t push. In Jensen’s previous relationships he’s had sex with his partners to appease them. He doesn’t have to do that with Jared. Maybe that kind of love, that _safety_ , was what Jensen needed in a relationship before he _could_ feel sexual desire. Desire comes with arousal and only on occasion. Moreover, his attraction to Jared _isn’t_ sexual. It’s his humor, his intellect, his goofiness, his eyes and his smile. He doesn’t look at Jared and want to jump his bones, he looks at Jared and feels warmth and affection and love. So, yes, Jensen _is_ Asexual, that is the label with which he feels most comfortable, but that doesn’t mean he can’t, on occasion, enjoy making love, even get pleasure from it, but that is secondary to the closeness and intimacy of the act.

Jensen lifts his head after a few moments of quiet introspection. He turns to look at Jason. The bearded man is grinning. 

“Got it figured out now?”  
Jensen nods, answering Jason’s grin with one of his own. 

“Good. Now, if I have solved your sexual identity crisis, can we please get drunk and not talk for the rest of the night?”

Jensen is on board with that.

When Jensen wakes up the next morning—a little hungover but not too bad—he feels more secure with himself than he has in years, and definitely than he has since he first got involved with Jared. He knows what he has to do: see Jared. They are both miserable and Jensen can put an end to it.

Jason is snoring loud enough to wake the dead on Jensen’s sofa. Jensen shakes his head as he heads into the bathroom to shower and shave. He dresses carefully, choosing a pair of black skinny jeans and a green Henley. He spikes his hair, knows he’s doing things to make himself deliberately sexually inviting and he’s okay with that. Jared is a sexual person and Jensen wants Jared to find him attractive. Then he heads over to Jared’s apartment. His stomach feels as if there are bats fluttering in it but it’s a good feeling, anticipation and excitement. He takes the elevator to the third floor, fidgeting with nervous energy. 

When the elevator doors part on the quiet hallway, Jensen steps out and jogs to Jared’s door. He straightens his clothes and clears his throat before he raps sharply three times on the door. He flexes his fingers and shuffles from foot to foot as he waits for door to open. A few heartbeats later he knocks again. No response. Jensen sighs. He’s worked himself up for this that the option that Jared wouldn’t answer the door or not be home never occurred to him. He thought that Jared would be home alone and miserable, like Jensen. He checks his watch. Quarter after seven. Too early for the animal clinic where Jared works to be open but late enough for Jared to be up. 

He extracts his phone from his pocket and shoots Jared a text. 

_We need 2 talk_

He waits, keeps an ear to the door but hears no sounds of activity inside Jared’s apartment. Jared must not be home. Jensen supposes a heartbroken Jared may not have wanted to stay in an apartment that reminded him so strongly of Jensen and sought shelter with a friend. Jensen wonders about Butters and Twilight. Jared isn’t the type of pet owner to leave his animals alone for extended periods of time. If Jared is temporarily staying with a friend he probably took his kittens with him. With a resigned sigh he turns and leaves. 

As he’s unlocking the shop his phone vibrates in his pocket. He gets the door open and pulls out his phone. His stomach plummets when he reads the text from Jared.

_k._

Jensen’s brow furrows. _K_? That’s _all_? Maybe it’s already over in Jared’s mind. The thought makes Jensen queasy. If it is over for Jared Jensen has no one to blame but himself. With his angsting and shutting Jared out what else was he supposed to think?

Jensen’s thumbs hover over the touchscreen keyboard, trying to formulate a reply that doesn’t sound needy or desperate. He still has his pride, after all. When nothing is forthcoming he rolls his eyes, tucks his phone away, and prepares to open the shop.

Throughout the course of the day Jensen’s head snaps up and over to the door every time someone comes into the shop. With so many customers (he’s grateful for every single one, but the only person he wants to walk through that door is Jared) Jensen is pretty sure he’s given himself whiplash. As morning turns to afternoon, turns to early evening Jensen gives up on Jared coming by the store.

After his last customer leaves—Samantha, an aspiring mystery novelist who buys several books on forensic science and police procedure—Jensen closes and locks the shop. He grabs his phone again and shoots Jared another text. 

_I need 2 talk 2 u_

He waits a few minutes for a reply but nothing seems to be forthcoming. With a sigh he resolves to swing by Jared’s apartment again after he counts the day’s receipts. As he’s finishing up, there is a soft knock on the glass. Jensen’s heart leaps into his throat. He knows its Jared. 

He swallows hard, gathers his nerve, formulates his apology and orders his thoughts. He turns and sees Jared appearing grim and resolute, like a soldier going into a hopeless battle, standing on the sidewalk with a medium-sized cardboard box in his arms. Again, he’s dressed in plain blue scrubs. His hair looks clean but lank and there is a couple days beard growth and the bruises under his eyes are darker. Guilt gnaws at Jensen. He’s responsible for that. It’s past time to fix this, fix them.

He steps from behind his counter and throws the lock on the door. Even if Jared does look brittle and careworn he’s still Jared, and Jensen is elated to see him. The smile on his lips dies when Jared thrusts the box toward him. 

“This is all the stuff you left at my apartment. I washed everything and….” His voice trembles there and his shoulders slump.

Jensen sets the box down. “That's not why I wanted to see you. I wanted to talk...about the other night."

"No, Jen, you don’t have to say anything. We had something great and I ruined it. I overstepped. I pushed you and took more than you want to give. And I am _so_ sorry.” 

"Jared, stop!” Jensen cries. He can’t take anymore of Jared's apology and self-recriminations. He reaches out and grabs Jared’s wrist and pulls him into the store. He flips the sign from Open to Closed and locks the door. " _I'm_ the one who should apologize."

“No, you don’t,” Jared insists. “I was trying to take something you weren’t willing to give. If you want to cuss at me go right ahead; there isn’t anything you can hurl at me that I haven’t called myself.”

“Jared, shut the fuck up and let me talk! Do not interrupt me, or I swear I will duct tape your mouth shut."

Jared’s jaw snaps shut and he looks perplexed as he peers at Jensen from behind his curtain of dark hair. “Okay.”

“Okay!” He really would rather have this discussion at one of their apartments but that’s not the way it’s going to go down. “C’mere.” He takes Jared’s hand, damp with sweat, and leads him to the back of the shop where the book clubs’ meet; there are chairs they can sit in while they hash this out.

Once they are seated, Jensen speaks. "The other night...I wanted to have sex with you. I’ve wanted to for awhile now and it made me call into question everything I ever thought I knew about myself. More than that it, I was scared that if we had sex you would think that I wasn’t Ace anymore and expect to have a more ‘normal’ relationship. That’s never going to be the case and once you realized that you would grow unhappy and leave me. I’d be alone again and after you…. The thought terrified me and I freaked out. I hurt you in the process. I made you think you had done something wrong and I’m sorry for that.”

They sit in silence for a couple of minutes. Jared gazes off in the distance, brow slightly furrowed as he takes in what Jensen said. Jensen hopes he has explained how he feels in such a way that Jared can grasp.

Jared takes a breath, licks his lips, and appears as if he’s going to speak before falling silent again. He does this a few times before he does, indeed, speak. “I totally get freaking out. I freaked out when I realized I was gay.”

Jensen cocks his head to the side in a listening attitude. 

“I was a freshman in high school. I was on the football and basketball teams, and we’d shower after practice. At first I thought it was what all guys did, you know? Checking out how big the other guys’ dicks were compared to my own, who was cut or uncut. But I knew it was more than that really. No one else had that flare of lust in their belly. No one else wanted to get on their knees or offer up their asses.”

Jensen smirks. “I think you’d’ve been surprised.”

Jared smiles, wistfully. “Probably, but I didn’t know that at the time. I felt alone and scared. I was a _jock_ , I couldn’t be gay. What really set me off was when I fell in love for the first time. Until that happened I could deny it, say it was just about sex or a fantasy, but falling in love was something else. So I freaked out. I acted out. I got into fights, my grades went to shit, I got into drugs, and I got arrested.”

“Jesus, Jared. You never told me.”

Jared shrugs. “Not exactly my most shining moment. But once I came clean, admitted the truth, if only to myself, things worked themselves out. So what helped you get over your freak out?”

“I talked to Jason, although I probably should have talked to you, but until I made sense of my own feelings I just couldn’t. I wasn’t prepared if you had questions or anything. How could I explain my feelings to you when I couldn’t explain them to myself?”

Jared nods. “So sex is okay sometimes?”

“If we're cuddling and making out and the desire is there, yeah, we can have sex. I probably won’t want it as often as you do, not nearly as often because my attraction to you isn’t based on anything sexual. Can you be happy with that?” There is a little flutter in Jensen’s gut, afraid Jared will say no. 

“Yes, Jensen. _Yes_. I love you and being with you has shown me there is so much more to a relationship than sex.”

“I just don’t want you to feel…deprived or anything. You give me so much, I don’t even think you realize.” 

“You think sex is the only thing you can give me? Give yourself some credit.” He’s grinning and gazing at Jensen with such a besotted expression it make his heart skip. “I’m not some sex fiend or something.”

All the doubt and sadness he has been carrying evaporates. “You gonna kiss me now?” He asks leaning forward, a grin of his own answering Jared’s. 

Jared’s eyes twinkle with mischief and he leans in, but stops with their lips are a hairsbreadth apart. “Only if you admit it’s totally plausible that Roose Bolton is an immortal skinchanger.”

Jensen fists a hand in Jared’s scrub top, hauls him in, and seals their lips together.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for a sequel occurred to me not too long after I finished Enough. I hope to visit them one more time.
> 
> Sexuality is a spectrum and there are a variety of ways to express it. Jensen's struggle and journey is not meant to represent all of them. Also the Ace message board replies are grossly exaggerated. In the forums I have visited most users are polite and insightful. I claim artistic license. Thanks for reading. Comments are pie. ♥


End file.
